Can you fit a baby in the back?

Absolutely yes. Despite being a two-door fastback the Wraith’s overall size means that getting the kids’ seats in and out is relatively easy. The ongoing challenge is finding a space big enough to swing the suicide doors open to full span. (Small children have a habit of pushing the doors back all the way as they climb out and if I had a pound for every time I had said, “Watch the doors!” I’d have enough to buy a Rolls-Royce Wraith).

Does the baby stuff fit in the boot?

I suspect this car has been designed more with golfers than it has toddlers in mind but the boot space was ample for all our day-to-day parenting gear (buggy, change bag, the usual kit and caboodle) and actually housed a child’s bike pretty comfortably. A thumbs up all round for roominess.

Can you change a baby inside it?

In theory you could but it would be difficult to do so without drawing unnecessary attention to yourself. To be honest, it felt difficult to do anything without causing a bit of a spectacle (though that might have had something to do with the two-tone purple and silver paint). Leaving the Wraith stationary for any length of time resulted in passers-by stopping to have a gander and that’s just not what you want when you are trying to clean up the aftermath of a code brown situation.

Can you get sick off it?

It depends where the sick falls. The seats are conveniently wipeable but a mid-journey chunder wreaked havoc with the lambswool foot mats. In fact, as lovely as they are (really lovely; as a passenger I took my shoes off to bury my toes in luxury) the foot mats are the one and only vehicle option I wouldn’t bother with – definitely not in the back, anyway – as they lose their air of indulgence when peppered with Lego body parts and rice cakes.

How did your kids describe it?

“Purple. Car. Big” (Jude, aged one)

“There’s an UMBRELLA in it!” (Henry, aged four)

Somewhat annoyingly for us, the kids were underwhelmed by the whole Roller experience. After all of ten minutes they had grown tired of hearing us banging on about how it really did feel less like driving and more like “wafting” and started complaining that they didn’t like the Spotify playlist we had linked up to the Rolls-Royce Bespoke Audio. It struck us as a waste somehow to be cruising along enveloped in comfort and extravagance while listening to Hakuna bloody Matata but that’s kids for you. They were moderately impressed by the hide and seek Spirit of Ecstasy, though, so that’s something.

Reaction from other parents?

There’s no denying that this is a phenomenal car and our friends and neighbours were pretty wowed when we rocked up in it. In fact, most people seemed wowed until they saw who was driving it (like they’d been expecting the Sultan of Brunei and instead clapped eyes on a disappointingly ordinary couple stressing over crumbs on the footmats to the background hum of a Disney CD). The most frequently asked question from other parents mirrored our niggling concern: where the hell do you park it? Granted, if you were in the market for £263,800 worth of car it is likely that you would have a drive or an underground lair (and unlikely that you be forced to have a word with Tony from the Social Club to see if you could slip him a tenner and use the car-park for the weekend). Genuinely, Tony saved the day when we couldn’t find an on-street space to accommodate a vehicle length of 5.2 metres, which even with a bird’s eye view reversing camera is not conducive to terraced residential areas. Again, this is unlikely to feature as an issue if you can afford the Wraith – it’s hardly surprising that it wasn’t a natural fit for our area when it is worth approximately 140 per cent the value of our house. That said, the car-parks of doctors’ surgeries, soft play centres and discount supermarkets with their origins in Germany all proved pretty practical with this car.

Any good for mum and dad?

The car is a dream. Test-driving coincided with our wedding anniversary and we had the chance to properly open it up (minus the kids) along the Atlantic Highway - despite weighing more than two tonnes it goes like shit off a shiny shovel. There was no opportunity to pull over and physically mark the occasion (what with it being purple and attracting large crowds whenever the engine is turned off) but simply being in it felt pretty epic. My husband likes his cars (to the extent of subscribing to "Car Spotters" on YouTube) and his final words as we cleared out all our gear were, “I’ll probably never drive a car like this again. Sad times.”

There is no doubt that this car can comfortably accommodate a family but I think it’s safe to say its grandeur is not befitting of an ordinary family from Devon. If money was no object and we had secure parking (and an alternative motor for nipping to Toys R Us) I can honestly say I’d probably have one. Absolutely not in purple though; instead I think I’d sell my house (twice over) for the new Black Badge edition and get the starlight headliner in the hope of pacifying the kids for more than five miles.